I was so affirmed
By only a text
It took so little
To warm my cheek

It made my week, and
I paid the price.
So nice, so nice, so
Don't speak, don't seek
Better. can there
Be better for
Someone like me?

I don't see any
Alternative, I
Was told I wasn't
Worth it, a cold
Honesty shared
So early, I cared
So earnestly, spared
No hurt from
The long line of
Just fine, but unkind,
Men and boys.

They deployed
Compliments so
Sparingly, with a
Tactical training
So practical for
Blaming and shaming,
With just enough
Sugar for my starving,
Unloved self, carving
Little marks on my
Arm, so alarmed
To find out I might
Get your kindness, fight
For the scraps of
Your light, but the
Rays were traps to
Capture my body's
Honey and I'm left
Bereft, faulted,
Confused, assaulted.

Will, I hear your voice, I
Still, I have no choice,
My heart is that strong and
Apart just feels wrong.

I've memorized your hug,
I'm sensitized to the snug
Embrace of your arms
My face nestled, no harms

Can reach my core,
Can breach even your
Simple affection,
This supple connection

Belongs to you and me,
The wrongs and the fees
A small price to pay
To fall in love every day.

make it work
make it work
i tell myself to make it work
i sell myself on the idea
that so long as i try hard enough
i can patch up any
shredded quilt, if i just
feel the guilt and take the blame,
exhibit my shame, and tarnish my name
i can fix us because the mix of
you and me is the only
thing i know anymore,
i don't want to explore
another us, i want to be yours,
so i try not to fuss, not
to expect more than i should
say you did the best you could
and i can always do a bit better,
leave little love letters
for you around our space,
do the dishes in case
that might be the last straw.
i know i've made you so raw
with my careless levity,
and you use such brevity
i can never be sure
if your love is still pure
or is it tainted with resentment,
visualizing a contentment
with me that you cannot see,
not now or ever, so i have to be
careful, and thoughtful and
scared, my mind wrought full
of questions and hopes
that you'll stay, that you'll cope
and maybe learn to accept
then learn to love
me for who i am
with my faults and my sins
see that i'm still a win,
i'm a catch, i'm a find,
i've got my **** but i've
also got my mind,
a mind that gets you and sees you
that lets you just be you
i want to grow
but i want to grow with you
i need to know that my lengthening stalks
won't fall unsupported, unheld,
but that together we meld
and create something beautiful
with roots that go deep and
flowers that blossom and die,
our love is a plant, you and i
and the work is the water and
the roots are commitment,
the flowers are moments
that must come and go
but the going is part
of the growing and art
of relationship lasting.
this shadow we're casting
is just proof of the sun
and the light that's in sight
if only we'll look in the direction of right,
not the wrongs and the bads
and the i can't stands,
but the beauty we're clad in
and the touch of our hands
in each others, as we band
together on the journey through time
it's a crime not to try
and to fail and repeat
it was never neat
and it's never complete
but i'm yours yours yours
and i need you to be mine.
oh please let us be fine
let this be a phase
a growing pain
just before the bloom
let it happen soon

I can't sit with myself,
I'm the worst company these days.
I keep walking away
in the middle of a one-way
conversation,
short durations
only please,
I can't sit with myself,
as it won't be long
before everything goes wrong.

I can't feel this feeling but
I can **** well name it,
words come easy, its the
noticing that's queasy so
look there it goes, it flows
out the door so I don't have to
feel it anymore. i wish i could be sure,

but that is a lie, I know,
I can't be honest with myself.
my heart is a shelf and
the volumes of trauma have
collected so much dust, it
must take a lifetime to get
those clean and shiny.
who knew this tiny collection could
carry so much weight,
i'm guessing the heaviness is hate.

I can't look at myself, not
without thoughts thoughts thoughts
about the shoulds and oughts,
my body is not subscribing to my
beauty standards, deciding instead
to demand respect by taking
no **** about whether or not
it can sit or stand or stop eating,
defeating my idea of will power
with more force than i've ever known
and causing me to cower.

i can't write this poem
because I can't stop thinking about
writing the poem, and is it good, is
it good yet? should I take a bet
on whether it will ever be enough
for this semi-tough critic
who knows she's not really
a poet, so why are you doing this exactly?
you know it will not be good,
you should know it by now. you should.

i can't sit with myself,
i try to say what needs to be said
the thoughts i have just before bed,
the dread and memory,
forever in my flesh and bone, alone,
I felt so alone back then and now
with all around to be with,
i still sit with myself and
am lonely again, feel homely again,
i can't feel it really, can only name it again,
can only hear HIS name, again.

i can't forgive myself. I sit
here complaining to me about my
split personality which is really just
a hurt child inside, mild and trying to hide,
but all I do is hear her cry and try
to shush her, slap her, ignore her,
bore her, i'm not a good parent
to my memories, i don't ease
them the way i should, and there
i go again, if only I could
stop using should to scold her, me,
and see me, her, for what she is,
not cold and ***** but alone and afraid,
made to think it's all her fault,
the yelling, the silence and the assault.
but it wasn't, my love
i imagine a dove, i try to be tender
i try to surrender my thorny casing,
erasing the added burden of self-defeat,
just trying to meet her where she's at,
and seeing that she is me, and I'd
never call her fat, never call her selfish,
I'd never be rough, id say you're enough
to that little she who is little me,
trying to see that it's really my own
opinion that matters, and I'm grown
and no longer battered, not by others,
and no longer by me, i cross my heart,
and hope to survive, to be alive, to thrive,
i cross my heart to nurture this part.

Unknown, my hands
Wring and pick, I
Stick myself firmly
In the unknown, the
Places, the faces of
My future acquaintances,
The footsteps that will fall,
Small, unsteady, unknown
But ready, I walk,
To fly, to arrive,
I contrive this plan
Of unplanning, of
standing to face unfamiliar
space and sound, the
Ground beneath unknown,
Blown winds of seas,
I flee my home for the
Unknown, that I may
Be shown how little
I've grown, how far I've flown
To confront myself,
The true unknown,
Never out but in,
In, within my heart the
Uncharted map of
Blood and bone.

I want to feel love
Like a hug that comforts
Not a drug that quells.

I've been taking lines of love,
the only form I know.
It doesn't penetrate, it just coats
My surfaces.
I'm so hidden, I can't even find myself
Under my approval-seeking mask.

Will the me who tries less
Receive more?
I can't know until I try
To stop trying,
And feel prized for who I am
at my raw material
Not what I do
at my most fearful.

My costume is adored,
Maybe my nakedness would be too,
Even more so in it's realness?
I risk losing my accumulated love stash
In exchange for a single drop of the real thing.

It's the difference between an endless supply of  painkillers numbing my broken feet,
Or putting faith in a cast that heals slow and sure and warm.
And then I may finally walk on my own.

Maybe I won't be so tired all the time,
Not expending all that effort to be worthy,
no belief that my inherint value exists in the sustainable landscape of being.
Maybe I'll finally have the energy
to rest peacefully
In the knowledge that I can be me
when I wake.

It's a leap of faith,
For someone who has grown comfortable
with a hopscotch recipe for success,
Fleeting but with a guaranteed buzz.

I don't want to be a tweeker any longer.
I want to sober up on the real thing.
The pure glass of water that is
genuine affection,
The bedrest of trust,
Puking out my instinct to please
And filling up on the notion that
I, by myself, am enough
For others.
And more importantly,
For me.

Where are my words
When I need to speak out?
Gone is my ability
To articulate, whisper, shout.

Where is my 'no'?
My 'don'ts' , 'can'ts' , won't flow.
And where is my 'yes,
Yes, yes, please, let's go'?

Where is my honesty
Brave kind and true?
Hiding being the fear
That I won't be loved by you.

If I say 'look here
At my scars and stains',
What more will I be thought of
Than a list of my pains?

Shortcomings proving
Ineptitude and reason
That I have no business here
Or there, too unseasoned.

I start to vanish
Behind a false picture
Of who you want to see,
Complete with all fixtures

Of a well-spoken, anxious,
Nail-picking woman-child,
So terrified of yelling,
Always taming her wild.

I love to love fiercely,
Proudly, loudly, undaunted.
But reciprocation is fleeting,
I'll never be that wanted.

These are the words
I keep to myself,
They've gathered inches of dust
On my mind's endless shelf.

Collections and volumes
Professing learned truths,
Lessons unintended
Throughout all my youth.

There's something wrong with me,
Inherent in my veins.
All whom I love will leave
As marks washed away by rain.

Where is my power,
My comfort and ease?
To be enough for myself
Not needing to please.

Where's all my joy
In the blessing of being?
I've spent it on others
To keep them from fleeing.

Where is my love
For the body I'm in?
It's time to explore.
Its time to be more.
Its time to begin.